


Welcome Home, Love

by merulanoir



Series: We Name Each Other [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Blowjobs, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Spanking, soft dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:12:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merulanoir/pseuds/merulanoir
Summary: When Dettlaff has to travel away for a weekend, Regis comes up with a way to keep Geralt occupied.(Gratuitous established poly relationship bdsm porn and fluff.)





	Welcome Home, Love

**Author's Note:**

> So after Ex Nihilo made so many people sad, I felt the need to write something happy and to explore the bdsm dynamic of the polycule. To put it bluntly, this fic is just gratuitous happy porn. And feels. 
> 
> Beta by Kaeltale, whose brain survived the relentless smut admirably. <3 
> 
> This fic talks a lot about bdsm and good practices regarding aftercare and other stuff. The scenes are by no means hard-core and there's no role-playing involved. If you read the prequels and had no trouble with them, you'll be good.

Geralt should have known Regis was up to something when he only nodded and smiled after hearing that Dettlaff wouldn't be able to spend the long weekend at home. They had been planning of holing up, binge watching movies, and yes, having a lot of good sex; instead Dettlaff was needed to fill in for a sick colleague at a conference, and he had agreed after exchanging a long-suffering look with Regis and Geralt.

Dettlaff had been surprisingly accommodating. In the past, things that broke his routine had made him cranky and sullen for days, but it had started to change once he'd found a therapist and his medication had been adjusted. He had apologized for blowing Geralt and Regis off, and proceeded to pull up guest lecture plans out of thin air. He had even seemed happy about going to the conference.

Geralt loved seeing how much better Dettlaff was doing. It had a direct effect on his own well-being, as well as Regis’. Both of them breathed easier when they saw Dettlaff learning to deal with his depression. It made the relationship as a whole function more smoothly, because they were all forced to talk about stuff rather than just stew in their problems until something gave.

Geralt walked Dettlaff to his car. The man had finally rented a warm garage on Geralt's insistence, and not having to dig the car out from under a mountain of snow was a luxury, as well as a kindness to the old car’s battery.

Dettlaff put his luggage into the trunk and then dragged Geralt close by his belt loops.

“You'll both be okay?” he muttered against Geralt's lips.

Geralt chuckled. “Sure. Go tell them all about your paper.”

Dettlaff smirked and pulled Geralt flush against himself. “Try not to wear each other out while I'm gone.” His lips brushed the day-old stubble on Geralt's jaw, eliciting a shiver.

“Regis said he wants to work on a lecture plan, since we're saving the movie marathon for when you come back,” Geralt answered with a slightly strained voice, his hands settling on Dettlaff's hips.

He only got a cocked eyebrow and a skeptical smile as an answer. When they finally disentangled themselves, Dettlaff pecked him on the lips and got into the car. Geralt rolled the door open and waved, shivering in the freezing air.

The light was pale and tired in December, he thought when he closed the door and rubbed his arms. The year had been a long one, and now it was drawing to a close; Geralt was as happy as he could ever remember being, despite his hip still acting out. He had returned to work in August, and working at the base had kept him busy. There had been talk of doing the paperwork to get him a veteran status, so he wouldn’t need to do anymore overseas deployments.

Geralt slipped his key into the lock and felt a rush of happiness as it turned. They hadn't officially moved in together, but the truth of it was that he practically lived with Regis and Dettlaff nowadays. Regis had insisted he come stay with them when he got out of the hospital, and Geralt hadn't gotten around to leaving yet. He'd even asked about it (because talking about stuff was supposedly the mature thing to do), but both of his lovers had looked at him with wide eyes and scrambled to outshout his arguments.

Regis was in the living room when Geralt went in. The doctor was sprawled on the sofa, hands behind his head and looking deep in thought. Geralt crouched down and brushed his fingers through the dark, unruly hair. Regis glanced at him and smiled.

“So, we've got almost two days before Dett comes back. Got any ideas?” Geralt drawled.

Regis’ eyes crinkled when he grinned. “I have a fairly good idea what he thinks about that pet name, love.”

Geralt barked a laugh. “He outright forbid me from ever calling him that. So of course I'm doing it.” 

What he didn't say aloud was that annoying Dettlaff made him more likely to eventually throw Geralt on the bed and fuck him until his head was spinning and he was whimpering. It was good, even if the aspect of submitting to either of his partners still made him… Not uneasy, per se, but uncertain in some way he wasn't able to put into words.

Part of it was the conflict the submissive role had with his everyday personality. Geralt knew himself to be decisive and headstrong, yet giving up all control and handing himself over to his lovers felt better than anything. He knew there was no shame in it, but an obstinate part of himself kept fighting back. 

Regis’ eyes didn't miss a thing. His hand sneaked behind Geralt's head and pulled him in for a kiss. It was gentle but possessive, Regis’ tongue pushing past Geralt's lips. Geralt sighed happily, melting into the touch without any hesitation.

Regis pulled back, but his hand stayed where it was, cradling the back of Geralt's skull. “You were somewhere else just now,” he said. “What is on your mind?”

Geralt tried to look away, despite knowing Regis wouldn't let the topic lie. When the doctor scented blood, he pushed until the resistance caved in. It was mostly a good thing, if annoying on occasion.

True to habit, Regis immediately twisted himself up and brought his legs down on to the floor, framing Geralt and holding him in place. He smiled.

“Please tell me.”

Geralt heaved a sigh. He knew he would need to talk about it sooner or later.

“I'm having some trouble with subbing.” 

Regis frowned, already starting to look worried, and Geralt rushed to explain. “I like doing it, but it makes me feel troubled.” He looked at Regis, searching for words.

Regis smiled gently as he cupped Geralt's cheeks. “Are you wondering if submitting makes you somehow less?“

“Yeah, something like that,” Geralt mumbled. His cheeks were getting hot. “I love doing it, but…”

Regis pulled him up and then kept tugging until Geralt straddled his lap on the sofa. Even though Geralt was physically bigger and stronger, there was no doubt who was in control of the situation. Something about Regis just exuded the aura of dominance.

Regis stroked his hands up and down Geralt's sides, still smiling. Geralt let the contact ground him, feeling his heartbeat slow.

“I think you’re amazing, in and out of the bedroom,” Regis said matter-of-factly. “Enjoying play and submission makes you something more, never less.”

Geralt met Regis’ eyes and smiled. Regis pulled Geralt closer and kissed him again, slow and coaxing, until Geralt's breath hitched. Regis smiled wider.

“I love you so much.”

Geralt felt his heart leap at the words, even after getting to hear them regularly for months.

“I love you too,” Geralt said before kissing Regis again. For a while they were content to enjoy the proximity, but then Regis gripped him by the hips and sucked on his bottom lip. A needy whimper escaped Geralt's mouth, and was swallowed by a delighted Regis.

“I would like to show you just how much I appreciate you,” Regis murmured.

Geralt still had no idea what it was about Regis that told him the play started; his tone didn't change, he didn't assume any kind of a role, but something shifted just beneath the surface of his black eyes. At the sight, Geralt felt himself slip into the skin he inhabited whenever he abandoned control, and every time it was both comforting and exciting.

Even now, when Geralt had literally just voiced his worries, the role felt his own. It was a part of him, and he had missed it so damn much when he hadn't had a regular partner. Something told him time would most likely take care of his hesitance, and no way in hell would he quit playing in the meantime.

“I'd like that,” he said, remembering by now that Regis demanded full sentences.

Regis grinned, and the expression sent Geralt's blood on a one-way trip south. He was seized in another slow kiss, Regis’ hands stroking his sides, back, and ass, until they were pressed close together and Geralt's cock was filling with hot blood. Regis gripped him hard by his spread thighs and ground down experimentally. A breathy sound escaped Geralt’s mouth.

“You are so good,” he purred, one hand kneading a butt cheek and another brushing over the bulging front of the sweats Geralt was wearing. “I love having you in my lap, just waiting eagerly, and ready to take whatever I think to give.”

Geralt bit his lip. He kept his hands on Regis’ shoulders, not daring to move them without permission. Regis was a master of talking dirty, and he liked to spell out all the filthy things he was going to do to Geralt.

“You've been behaving so well for the past week, I planned a small surprise for you,” Regis continued, cupping Geralt's erection and squeezing very lightly. “And I think you'll come to like it.”

Geralt felt his hips twitch involuntarily. “You can do whatever you want to me,” he said softly.

“I know,” Regis smiled. “Take off your clothes and wait for me in the bedroom. You are not allowed to touch yourself.”

Geralt stripped and folded his clothes neatly on a chair. He knew Regis liked when he took the time to do that, and even inconsequential things like that had acquired meaning in the frame of dominance and submission. To an extent, the lines of the play blurred with the normal life, because Geralt was slowly finding out he was addicted to doing things that pleased his lovers.

Geralt resisted the urge to stroke himself and sat down on the bed. Regis came in a short while after, carrying a flat, black box. He nodded in approval and came to stand in front of Geralt. Geralt allowed his head be tilted back as Regis placed a hand on his chin.

“You’ve liked getting spanked so much it occurred to me I could get you a present,” Regis said. “And since you mentioned you prefer bare hands to the crop, I thought of this.” 

He let go of Geralt and opened the box. Inside was a paddle, made from supple, black leather and stitched with deep red along the edges. Geralt could smell the thing was brand new. His mind immediately provided him with several places he would like to get hit with it, and he could feel himself flush.

He looked up at Regis, who seemed pleased by his expression. The doctor picked up the paddle and dropped the box on to the nightstand. “Now, you will help me undress, and then we will see how much you can take.”

Geralt scrambled to obey, because Regis was growing hard watching him. Geralt unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off, his hands sliding on skin and loving how sharp Regis’ gaze got by the time he unbuckled his belt. Geralt drew down his pants and underwear, and swallowed when he saw Regis’ cock inches away from his face.

He looked up, and met Regis’ eyes. “Can I suck you? Please?” he breathed.

Regis’ hand grabbed his hair, the sting drawing a moan from Geralt. “I don’t know. Can you?” he said quietly, and Geralt drew in a breath, his own cock throbbing.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “May I?”

Regis considered him for a moment and then released his hair, smoothing it back with a sure hand. “If you wish.”

Geralt pulled Regis closer by his hips and licked him in before he could change his mind. Regis tasted warm and salty, and a soft sigh left him as Geralt kept pulling him deeper. He let his tongue work the underside slowly, trying to draw out the act. Geralt loved giving head, and he especially loved how differently Regis and Dettlaff liked to receive oral. Regis wanted to be brought over the edge slowly, with licking and playing with the glans, whereas Dettlaff loved to fuck Geralt’s face, occasionally holding him down and pushing into his throat.

Unfortunately, Regis pulled out all too soon. He let his wet cock brush against Geralt’s lips once, teasingly, and stepped back. Geralt looked up and grinned at him, seeing how a blush was creeping on Regis’ high cheekbones.

“Get on the bed, Geralt,” Regis said in a slightly hoarse voice. “On your front, now.”

Geralt suppressed a moan as his erection dragged against the bedclothes. Regis knelt next to him, and brushed a hand down the length of Geralt’s back. Geralt put his arms under his head and turned to look at Regis, who caressed his ass and thighs with the paddle. The leather whispered against his skin, and a shiver ran up his back.

“You’ve been so good,” Regis said softly, with hunger in his eyes. “So now you will ask nicely, and I’ll let you test the new toy.”

The paddle tickled Geralt’s thigh as he tried to pull enough of his brain together to be polite. Regis knew he struggled to form good sentences once arousal reached a certain point, and the doctor delighted in punishing and rewarding him for it.

“Regis, please,” Geralt strained, “I need you to hurt me.”

Regis’ smile widened into a grin. Suddenly the paddle came down on Geralt’s left butt cheek, the sharp slap immediately followed by a guttural moan. Geralt’s hips twitched and he exhaled a shaky puff of air.

Regis stroked his cool hand over the red mark. “Harder?”

“Yes. Please.” Geralt swallowed, trying to anticipate the next strike. It came down with more force, and again his hips canted up. He didn’t do it consciously, his body just seemed to yearn for that flash of hot pain that was immediately followed by a dull throb.

The third hit dragged a real sob of pleasure from Geralt. He hadn’t minded the crop, but the paddle was so much better; the strike was blunter and captured a larger surface area, but the leather made sure each split-second of contact sparked up his spine and made his dick throb madly.

Regis kept hitting him without pause, and Geralt lost count after the fifteenth slap. His mind went very quiet; the only thing that registered was the pain and the pleasure, intermixed and both so necessary. It felt like having his whole head wiped clean. Geralt felt Regis’ free hand hold onto his hip, and after a while that felt like the only tether he had to the real world.

When Regis finally paused, Geralt realized he was on his knees with his head buried into the pillow. Regis’ hand brushed against his cock as he pressed a kiss to Geralt’s hip. Geralt’s breath was stuttering and his whole body was shaking.

“Oh, love,” Regis breathed. “You’re gorgeous.”

Geralt couldn’t find any words for him. He was lost inside his head, and allowed Regis to turn him on to his back with no resistance. The bed sheets brushed against his ass, and Geralt hissed. The abused skin felt hot and raw, and he loved every tiny sensation of it; the memory of getting hurt was equally as good as the act itself.

Regis pushed fingers into him gently, and Geralt drew in a breath. He could only stare at his lover. Every touch felt like it would tip him over, almost verging on being too much. The silence was only broken by their breaths, as both of them sank into the moment and allowed it to take shape just as it was.

And then Regis smiled at Geralt as he pushed into him, his cock sliding in with ease as the doctor leaned down to kiss Geralt. His hand rested against Geralt’s cheek, and his eyes were suddenly very soft as he started to move.

“You did so well,” Regis whispered. “I wasn’t planning on keeping at it that long, but you pushed your ass into it, practically begging for more, and I couldn’t resist.”

Geralt still lacked words. His lips moved as he tried to speak, but nothing came out; his head was getting buried under rushing pleasure, hazy and trembling, and still he heard Regis’ soothing voice spelling out adoration. He must have let out a sound, because Regis suddenly pressed so close they were joined from hips to neck, and held Geralt close.

“You are making me fall in love with you all over again,” Regis whispered, his hot and moist breath sending shivers down Geralt’s spine. “You are so good, and I want to take care of you.”

Geralt came without a touch to his cock, spasms wrecking his whole body as he spilled himself against Regis. Regis held him through it, murmuring into his ear, and when it finally ended Geralt went slack, gasping for breath.

The next thing he knew, Regis pulled out and dragged another comforter around them. The doctor gathered Geralt close and held onto him, fingers combing the sweaty hair out from his eyes. Geralt sagged against Regis and buried his head into his neck, hiding away from the world for a little while longer. He allowed his body to run through the natural array of shakes and shivers as the adrenaline abated, and focused only on breathing deep. Regis smelled safe, and he kept petting Geralt in silence.

The first time he had experienced a truly intense episode of subspace, Geralt had almost panicked. He had thought he was losing control of his body, and the intense euphoria had quickly turned into a shaking fit and scared his partner as well as himself. During the years, he had gotten used to the experience, and after getting together with Regis and Dettlaff he had already known what to expect.

What had come as a surprise was how thorough Regis was in his role as a dom. He seemed to have a mental checklist he kept running through his head during scenes, taking care his partners didn’t go over the edge. And thus with Regis, Geralt had dared to let go in a very different manner than before; he had never had a single fear he wouldn’t be taken care of. Despite the problems they’d had, every instance of play had been conducted from a place of mutual trust; when things had started to go to hell, playing had stopped instantly.

When the shaking finally died away, Geralt pulled a pillow under his head and rubbed a hand across his face. Regis was looking at him closely, his eyes expectant and warm.

“Did you finish?” Geralt asked. His voice was hoarse, so he had apparently gotten vocal at some point.

“No, and it doesn’t matter right now,” Regis shrugged. “You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

Geralt nodded, feeling blush gathering on the bridge of his nose. “Yeah.”

Regis raised an eyebrow, and Geralt sighed, trying to gather his thoughts from the mush that was his brain. “You didn’t hit me too hard, and… I liked the paddle a lot,” he muttered.

Regis’ smile grew wider and his eyes turned soft. “I had it hand-made, in fact,” he said. His fingers moved to Geralt’s side, stroking his sweaty skin.

Geralt felt something hot brush against his throat. “Really?” he asked. He was suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed, but in a different way than a minute ago.

Regis pressed their foreheads together. “I got Dettlaff something similar when we started to play regularly. It only seemed fitting.”

And just like that Regis crashed through some previously unknown blockade inside Geralt’s head. Without a warning, Geralt felt his eyes watering and his breath hitch. Regis drew back, eyes widening, and Geralt tried to suppress his shuddering breath; it tore free a second later, and Regis dragged him still closer. Geralt tried to ride out the violent and confusing rush of feelings without resisting it too much, but his lungs were burning. Regis held him tightly until he could finally calm down.

“What is it?” Regis asked, his lips brushing Geralt’s temple.

Geralt wiped his eyes, trying to make some sense of the outburst. He had been feeling very happy and sated, again on the verge of repeating how much in love he was, and then Regis had told him about the paddle…

“It’s what you said,” Geralt finally managed. “I’ve never… No one’s ever…”

Geralt had suddenly felt so utterly loved it had overwhelmed him completely. It had been a moment of being able to trust one-hundred percent that he was wanted.

Regis drew in a breath and kissed him hard, and Geralt tried to convey what he was feeling through it. Regis’ eyes were full of adoring heat when they finally parted.

“Oh, Geralt. You deserve to be loved. I do mean it when I say I want to take care of you,” he said quietly, his smile suddenly turning a little sad. “In this, and in normal life as well.”

Geralt nodded, and after that they were content to lie in silence. Geralt loved this part as much as the play itself, because after ascertaining all parties were feeling well, there would be endless cuddling together and lazy kisses, and eventually calm discussions about nothing in particular. Geralt had lost count how many times he had drifted off like that, waking up later with Regis’ head on his shoulder and Dettlaff curled against him, all three of them so tangled up it was hard to say where he ended and his lovers began.

Geralt was just about to nod off when Regis cleared his throat.

“I have been thinking.”

Geralt blinked his eyes open, trying to claw his way back into the land of the living.

“Uh-huh?”

Regis glanced at him and chuckled. “Dettlaff will be back the day after tomorrow. I have some ideas how we could pass the time and perhaps remind him he is needed at home.”

Geralt was feeling instantly more alert. He twisted around and shoved the pillow under his arms, grinning to Regis. “Oh yeah? Care to enlighten me?” Despite having just come, his dick had apparently developed a keen sense of knowing that fucking with Dettlaff would result him getting well fucked later.

Regis seemed to follow Geralt’s train of thought with ease. He laughed. “I propose you put yourself to my use tomorrow. You don’t get a say about what we do, when we do it, or how we do it.”

Geralt felt the blush crawling up his neck as his mind tried to foresee what the proposition would entail. He gave up almost immediately, because Regis’ imagination surpassed his by several orders of magnitude.

“Unless you safeword, we will go on until Dettlaff comes back,” Regis continued when Geralt didn’t protest. Geralt coughed, trying to get his thoughts out of the gutter and into some semblance of a working order.

“So how does this serve to tell Dettlaff he’d better come home as quickly as possible?” Geralt asked.

Regis suddenly looked very smug, and Geralt knew he was screwed.

“That is for me to take care of, love.”

***

Geralt woke up slowly, allowing his mind to drift in and out of sleep for a long time. He could feel Regis curled up against himself, still asleep. Pale winter sunlight was peeking through the heavy curtains; they had forgotten to close them properly because Dettlaff wasn’t at home.

Geralt rolled the word ‘home’ around in his mind and decided it was true. He still had his own flat, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember when he had last slept there. Most of his clothes and things had mysteriously migrated here, and his lovers had made space for him. It would’ve been disconcerting if it wasn’t so deliberate. Geralt had just never went back to his own apartment after getting out of the hospital, and the arrangement seemed like it made all three of them happier.

Geralt was aware of Regis waking up a short while after he managed to keep his own eyes open for longer than a few seconds. The doctor nuzzled his neck, all soft angles and heavy with sleep, and Geralt rolled around to wrap him into an embrace. Regis made a delighted, rumbling sound and buried his face into Geralt’s neck and settled there.

Geralt was just considering dozing off when Regis pressed a kiss to his collarbone, followed by teeth scraping against it. The memory of the discussion they’d had last night crashed back into Geralt’s head, and he swallowed thickly. All of a sudden he was feeling extremely awake.

“Morning?” he tried.

“Good morning,” Regis answered, continuing to press feather-light kisses up his neck. “Did you sleep well?”

“Uh. Yeah.” Geralt was having a hard time mustering up a sensible answer because Regis had latched onto the skin just below his ear and was sucking on it slowly. He had always been a sucker for morning sex.

“Full sentences,” Regis murmured, grazing Geralt’s earlobe with his teeth. Geralt drew in several deep breaths, but they only served to make him more flustered. Somehow the situation was causing him to get worked up; he was Regis’ to use as he pleased for the day, and not knowing what would happen was deftly obliterating all his higher brain functions.

Regis pulled back, and when he saw Geralt’s expression his face turned incredibly satisfied.

“Oh, my,” he drawled, pushing Geralt’s face up with a finger. “Aren’t you looking delicious the first thing in the morning.”

Regis was so gleeful it made Geralt chuckle, but then the smile on the doctor’s face died away and was replaced by something dark. Very slowly a hand worked its way around Geralt’s throat, pressing him down onto the mattress with just a hint of force behind the gesture. Regis straddled Geralt’s chest without preamble.

“I trust you remember what you agreed to?” he asked. His voice was suddenly very calm and dark. Geralt, already slipping into the hazy, submissive state, only nodded. The hand around his throat tightened just enough to offer a bit more pressure, and a soft keen escaped his mouth.

***

“Do you have anything you’re not comfortable with doing? Anything at all?”

“Not really. As long as it stays safe, I’m game.”

“Well, that should go without saying. My conscience as a doctor would not allow anything else. How do you feel about being talked down to?”

“Uh. I- I guess it’s- I mean-”

“Geralt.”

“Fuck, whatever: I like it. Go on, you can make the jibe about my career in the army now.”

“You know I would never do that.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“If I were to take a photo of you, would you consent to that?”

“A photo?”

“Only something you could never be recognized from. I’m well aware of the hazards of those kinds of pictures.”

“But what for?”

“I did tell you I’d convince Dettlaff he is needed at home.”

***

Regis leaned forward until his hardening cock was brushing against Geralt’s lips. They parted on their own accord, but Regis didn’t push further. His look turned contemplative.

“You enjoy this so much it makes me think you’d prefer to spend most of your time like this,” he said. A thumb pushed down Geralt’s bottom lip, and the sight of Regis hovering over him hurtled him ever deeper into the state of accepting this; the last vestige of hesitation melted away as Geralt swiped his tongue against the pad of the finger.

Regis grinned down at him. “For someone with such a snarky tongue, you get delightfully quiet and mellow when I so much as frown at you.”

With that, Regis finally brought his fully-hard cock within licking distance. The hand on Geralt’s throat stayed in place, preventing him from surging upwards. Regis teased his mouth with the tip, and Geralt strained to get more than a taste, the swollen head gliding against his lips and pulling back time and again, until he could tell he was leaking down his own shaft from sheer frustration.

Without a warning, Regis surged forward and pushed deeper, almost all the way in. Geralt gagged against the intrusion, but they had been doing this enough that both of them knew it was nothing to worry about; at this point, the way his throat constricted and then released served to propel the act forward.

Regis fucked against Geralt’s throat, not giving him any mercy until Geralt tapped lightly on his thigh to signal his need for air. Regis pulled out enough to leave the tip inside Geralt’s mouth as he gasped for oxygen, teasing the spit-slick lips and looking like he could do this all morning.

Geralt was feeling wrecked. His own erection was throbbing madly, but he didn’t dare to even think about touching it.

What Regis had said earlier had been all true; he loved giving head, and playing at getting forced into this position was one of his favorite scenarios.

Regis finally moved his hand into Geralt’s hair and tilted his head up. His cock rested heavily against the corner of Geralt’s mouth.

“You’re such a pretty thing,” he said with a wicked grin. “You’ll suck me off now, show me you like it, and keep your greedy hands off yourself.”

Geralt drew in a breath before Regis thrust in again, and then he just tried to hang on as his mouth was being savaged. His tongue felt like it would cramp any moment, and Regis held his gaze like he needed to make sure Geralt hadn’t the faintest doubt about who was in charge.

Regis came into his mouth with a grunt, spilling himself until his ragged breaths grew hoarse and he slumped forward. Geralt swallowed around him, trying to commit every detail of Regis’ face into memory.

Regis collapsed next to him, pulling Geralt closer and letting out a happy sigh. Geralt tried and failed to avoid brushing his own cock against anything. A whimper betrayed his state to Regis, whose eyes turned sharp instantly.

“Feeling bothered?” he asked.

Geralt had to admire Regis’ composure; if he had just come into his lover’s mouth like that, he would be fucking gibbering for the next fifteen minutes. As it was he merely nodded. The haze was lifting a bit, but not totally; it left him feeling loose and wanting, eager for what was to come.

Regis considered him for a while. Then his eyes lit up and he got out of the bed, walking to the closet.

Geralt knew Regis and Dettlaff had a large collection of toys, but he had never seen the actual box containing them; Dettlaff had asked him not to look because he liked to leave things to surprise, both when he dommed and when they just fooled around normally. Geralt had had an impressive array of toys shoved up his ass during the past months, and he hadn’t minded one bit.

Regis rummaged through the box for a while and finally came back to bed with a plug that was roughly the size of three fingers. It had a flare at the bottom that tapered into a thin middle before swelling into a bulbous end, curving enticingly. It was ink black in color and looked to be made of silicone.

“This is a favorite of mine,” Regis said nonchalantly. “Its design is beautiful, and the shape is just perfect for… Well, you’ll see.”

The feeling of lubed up fingers pushing into his ass made Geralt shiver. He was already so hard it hurt, and now Regis intended to make it worse.

Regis slid two fingers in and out until Geralt was reduced to a quivering mess. He didn’t dare to touch himself, but he was feeling like he would go crazy if he didn’t. Just when he was sure he was going to come undone, Regis replaced his fingers with the plug. It slid into place easily, the curved end settling just against the nerve bundle that made Geralt see stars.

And then Regis sat back and watched Geralt squirm around the toy, looking so pleased with himself Geralt immediately knew he was in big trouble.

“I’m going to start breakfast,” Regis said after a while, standing up. “You may join me after you have calmed down and dressed up. You are not allowed to touch.” With that, he picked up his clothes from the floor and left the room.

Geralt collapsed amidst the rumpled bed clothes with a silent groan. The movement sent a jolt of pleasure up his spine, and he was just about to grip his erection when he realized what he was doing. He had to take several deep breaths to calm down enough to even manage a coherent thought; there was no way he was going to squeeze into any kind of pants in this state.

Geralt rolled onto his back, and once again the plug seemed to rub right against his prostate. It didn’t show any sign of dislodging by itself either, so Regis’ glee had been entirely justified. Geralt took several slow breaths, trying to think about stuff that would take his mind off the throb between his legs.

Almost half an hour later, Geralt was met with amused eyes as he finally padded into kitchen. He had managed to quell his erection somewhat and dress, but he still felt like he could expire at any given moment. Regis’ eyes lingered on his crotch for what seemed an indecent amount of time, until the doctor met his eyes and winked.

“As I said, the design is rather lovely.”

Geralt grunted something, quickly looking away from Regis because the sight of those black eyes, all hungry, was enough to get his blood pumping all over again.

He managed to have breakfast and some coffee without incident, but then Regis stood up with a decisive air, and Geralt’s mind skittered to a halt before imploding into swirling clouds of dust. He was instantly hard again, because every damn movement made him feel the plug inside him.

Regis ambled closer to him and brushed his fingers through his hair before gripping it tightly.

“Did you obey me?” he asked.

Geralt nodded wordlessly, and just as he realized his mistake Regis’ fingers tightened.

“Mm, it would seem you need further prompting,” the doctor said, as if to himself.

“No, I was good, I promise to be good” Geralt gasped against the sting.

Regis pulled his head back by his hair until his throat was completely exposed, and scraped his teeth across the straining tendons.

“Too late, love.”

Regis pulled the plug out once he had Geralt against the wall of the shower. Geralt was trying to hold on to the slippery wall as he felt Regis push into him, all that slick wet skin dragging against him. It felt so good, and not enough, because Regis wouldn’t touch him. He fucked Geralt with slow, deep strokes that felt almost too much after the plug. And all the time Regis kept telling him how he was just going to have to wait, unless he was able to come just on his cock.

He didn’t. Regis finished first, with a muffled shout, and Geralt’s knees actually buckled when he pulled out. Regis caught him, lowering them both onto the floor and holding him close under the shower’s warm spray, then stroking his hair until he recovered enough to stand up.

Regis led him to the sofa after they had dried off, dragging Geralt down with him and switching the television on. Geralt was feeling exhausted again, and the heat was still churning low in his belly. He rested against Regis’ chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, and actually fell back asleep.

Geralt was woken up by a hand slipping under his sweats and massaging his ass. He tried to bury his head into Regis’ shirt, but the doctor was having none of it. He took a firm hold of Geralt’s chin, looking him in the eye for a long while. Geralt knew it was to ascertain that he didn’t feel like safewording; it turned into something else as he tried to stare back defiantly and only managed a needy glare.

Regis’ dark eyes saw it all in perfect clarity, and his quietness seemed to bring Geralt to heel. It was sheer natural authority that Regis had mastered, pulling out different nuances according to each situation.

Still disoriented from having just woken up, Geralt relented and allowed his mind to get hazy again. Slipping into that corner of his mind so soon after the previous scene was making it easier and more intense; it felt like a long continuum rather than separate occasions. It was different from before, and so damn good.

He ended up on his knees, Regis standing in front of him and looking satisfied as he teased Geralt’s lips with his erection. Geralt was gripping Regis’ thighs to remember he still wasn’t allowed to touch himself; he could feel his cock dragging against the sweats, again so hard it bordered on hurting. His muscles kept twitching, like his body was looking for any kind of a way to snap the tension.

When Regis finally started to fuck his mouth Geralt closed his eyes and tried to hang on. Nothing else seemed to exist right then, just the hot weight of Regis in his mouth, and his own painfully hard cock getting the minimum amount of friction.

He could tell Regis was getting close when he stiffened and his thighs went taut. Geralt’s jaw protested, but he made an effort to swallow his lover even further down. He was rewarded with a breathless moan and Regis’ hand gripping his hair hard. Geralt moaned, he was riding the same high as Regis by now, and then he opened his eyes.

Regis was grinning and aiming the camera of his phone at Geralt. Geralt’s eyes widened and right then Regis came into his mouth, and that sent him hurtling over the edge, coming into his pants without once touching himself. Geralt gasped and moaned, rocking backwards as the tension crested and crashed around him.

It took him quite a while to catch his breath. When he finally looked up, he could feel some of the cum dribbling down his chin. Regis chuckled and crouched down in front of him. He took another photo, aiming the lens with great care, and then threw the phone onto the sofa and kissed Geralt hard, apparently not caring that his mouth was absolutely filthy after the latest act. Geralt kissed back, burying his hands into Regis’ damp hair and dragging the doctor into his lap.

“You’re very pretty like that,” Regis breathed. He was flushed and almost glowing with satisfaction. “And I’m very pleased you came without touching yourself. How do you feel?”

Geralt exhaled as he tried to make sense of his situation. The orgasm had ripped through him and taken away the worst of the pressing need, but for some reason he was feeling frustrated.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “It was good, but I feel weird, like it wasn’t enough.”

Regis’ smile turned smug again. “It was my intention. You wouldn’t last the whole day without coming, but I need you sufficiently pent up in the evening.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yes.” Regis kissed him again, gentler this time. “But right now you and I need another shower and some food, I think.”

The rest of the afternoon was passed on the sofa, Geralt once again laying in Regis’ lap. He was getting treated to an infinite amount of petting and caresses, and while it didn’t help his frustration, having Regis’ attention for hours on end was almost intoxicating. When the light outside started to fade, Geralt was feeling loose and loved.

Finally, just when the movie ended, Regis looked at him and smiled. “I think now would be a good time to remind Dettlaff why he absolutely needs to come home early tomorrow, and not stay at the unofficial social gathering after the conference.”

Regis dug out his phone and showed the photos to Geralt, who could feel blood rush into his face like never before. Both of the pictures were cropped so that only parts of his face were visible; the first one had his lips straining around Regis’ cock, slick with spit, and the second one showed cum leaking out between his lips, the sweat beading under his nose. As Regis had promised, no one would be able to tell who was in the photos.

...Unless they had been on the receiving end of that exact same act; the last time having been only a few days ago.

“Yeah, go for it,” Geralt mumbled as he buried his face into his hands.

“You’re certain?”

“Yeah,” Geralt said, blowing out a breath to calm himself down. He knew he should be feeling mortified, but he was only feeling a kind of giddy excitement. Dettlaff would most likely burst a vein when he saw the pictures.

“Done,” came Regis’ cheerful voice a moment later. He put the phone away and hugged Geralt close. “I love you.”

Geralt peeked up. “Love you too. Do you think Dettlaff will reply?”

Regis’ eyes suddenly glinted maliciously. “I gave him some instructions.” His voice was very smooth, not betraying anything about his intentions.

Geralt’s brain flashed a neon sign saying “DANGER, DANGER,” but before he could do anything but gape, Regis had squirmed away and was standing in front of the sofa with his hands on his hips.

“Come, we need to get ready.”

Geralt was on his hands and knees when the phone rang. He tried to swallow, but it was hard when all his brain functions were getting obliterated by whatever that vibrating, thick thing inside him was. Regis was laying down next to him, head leaning on his hand, and just watching him. He glanced at the phone and grinned as he sat up.

“Hello, dear. Is the conference going well?”

Geralt tried to strain his ears to hear the answer, but Regis flicked the remote control with his free hand and the vibrations got harder. He bit back a moan, thighs trembling.

“Yes, entirely intentional. Did you enjoy the photos?”

Regis cocked his head as he listened.

“Are you alone?” he asked in a low tone.

“Good, listen very carefully. I’ve spent the entire day prepping Geralt for you. We’ll give you a sample of what awaits you when you get home.”

Regis suddenly switched the phone to a loudspeaker and put it down on the covers. Geralt saw the text on the screen glow in the darkness of the bedroom. “Ongoing call: Dettlaff” was written in bold letters on the screen. A shuddering groan left him when he realized what Regis meant to do.

“...Geralt?” a hesitant, breathy voice came through.

“Yeah,” Geralt said, trying to get his voice under control.

“Oh dear,” Dettlaff ground out. “Have you been good? I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Geralt said, the word cracking in two when Regis started to move the toy, fucking him with it slowly. “I miss you.” He couldn’t help moaning when Regis pushed the toy deep, grazing his prostate. His hips were twitching again, seeking anything to grind against.

“I’ll come home and take care of you,” Dettlaff answered. His breath hitched, and Geralt knew he was stroking himself. The mental image crashed into him, and his hands wanted to reach through the thin air to get Dettlaff here now.

“I need you.”

Regis chose that moment to pull the toy out and push in, starting to fuck him with a brisk pace. Geralt knew the obscene noises of them fucking were sure to carry over the loudspeaker; a second later Dettlaff moaned, the noise stifling as he apparently covered his mouth with his free hand.

“Oh, fuck.”

Geralt grunted in response; something about hearing Dettlaff swear was making his mind turn into a nest of fireworks.

“Tell him how good it feels,” Regis gasped. “Talk to him.”

“It’s too much,” Geralt ground out. “I need you here. I need you in me.” Normally he would’ve been ashamed to spew those words, but spending almost the whole day waiting to get fucked was getting to him. He just didn’t care about anything other than finally getting to come properly, so that this clawing hunger would be sated.

Dettlaff’s breaths grew harsh and irregular, and Geralt could tell he was getting close. He felt his own release begin to build at the base of his spine in response; nothing was more sexy than knowing his lover was close too.

“Regis, please, touch me,” Geralt gasped. “I can’t- I don’t-”

Regis only gripped his hips harder and picked up the pace.

“You haven’t been good enough yet,” he panted. “Make Dettlaff come first.”

A wordless cry of sheer frustration left Geralt. He was so close, but the final push wouldn’t come. Then Regis wrapped his arms around his waist as he came, and at the same time Dettlaff let out a loud groan at the other end of the line.

Geralt’s knees gave out and he collapsed onto the covers. His head was roiling, and he was hurting, and why wouldn’t Regis let him just-

Regis’ hand wrapped around his wrist just as he was about to reach for his erection.

“No, love.” His voice was like steel wrapped in velvet. The command made Geralt go slack on instinct, despite still feeling like his heart would give out. They stared at each other for a long time, until Geralt finally felt some semblance of coherence return. When he was reasonably certain he wouldn’t try to bolt into the bathroom, he heaved a heavy, exhausted sigh and Regis’ grip loosened instantly.

The doctor wrapped him into a full-body embrace and Geralt struggled to keep his eyes open. He was suddenly so tired he was certain he would fall asleep in seconds.

Regis picked up the phone. “Are you still there, love?”

“Yes,” came the haggard reply. “Exactly how long have you been planning all this?”

“Oh, I actually came up with this the same day you left. Call it a little treat for both of you.”

“You’re really something else.”

Regis chuckled. “We’re far from done. You have responsibilities to attend to here.”

Dettlaff heaved an amused sigh. “Geralt?” he asked after a while.

“Mh?” Geralt mumbled. His mind was dragging him under.

“I’ll come home tomorrow and I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

“I know.”

Dettlaff laughed tenderly. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I love you,” Geralt answered through the haze of sleep.

He slept long. His dreams were coming and going; colorful images interspersed with heavy darkness that engulfed him completely. Occasionally he was aware of someone next to him, but his mind was drifting back into sleep before he could make out who it was. Everything was warm and fuzzy.

When Geralt finally opened his eyes, he knew instantly it was late. Golden sunlight was bathing the bedroom, and Regis was reading a book next to him. When the doctor noticed Geralt was awake, he put the book away and laid back down, smiling.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. I slept late,” Geralt yawned.

Regis nodded. “It’s almost eleven. You seemed tired.”

“Wonder why,” Geralt muttered. His body seemed to know what today would bring, staying pliant and relaxed despite the heat crawling under his skin.

Regis brushed his hand through Geralt’s hair. “Would you like breakfast?”

After getting food into his belly Geralt felt content to just continue laying in bed with Regis. The aftercare was addicting, he decided, as Regis showed no signs of getting bored with cuddling him. Geralt had never been used to simple physical affection that was only meant as a sign of caring, but he had started to crave it. He had gotten the first taste when the three of them first got together, and when they had broken up, Geralt had truly understood how little he actually touched other people; when he had been unable to be close to the two people he had come to love, his body had felt like it would break down.

“When’s Dettlaff getting back?” Geralt asked at some point. Regis smiled knowingly, and Geralt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He felt like he would boil over if this went on for another day.

“As it stands, you’re in luck. Dettlaff texted me when you were dozing. The last lecturer of the day had apparently eaten bad shellfish yesterday,” Regis said nonchalantly. Geralt’s eyes widened.

“So he’s-?” he began, and Regis nodded.

“He will be here in half an hour.”

Geralt rolled on his back and threw an arm over his eyes. He was suddenly feeling overwhelmed in the best possible way. His stupid, relieved grin made Regis laugh delightedly.

“You’ve been so good. I’ll make sure he treats you right.”

The last hurdle was Regis telling Geralt to go fetch Dettlaff from the downstairs garage. Geralt was fairly sure he’d just force Dettlaff to fuck him against the car by then, but Regis read his thoughts and shook his head.

“Come straight back with him,” he said in warning, crossing his arms. Even when he was smiling, the command penetrated the haze inside Geralt’s head easily and grounded him.

He had to take several deep breaths when Dettlaff finally backed the car into the garage and rose from the seat, smiling and reaching for him immediately. Geralt went to him, wrapping his arms around Dettlaff’s neck and kissing him. Dettlaff drew him closer, until they were pressed together.

Gods, I missed you, Geralt thought. You were gone for two days, and I missed hearing your voice and hearing your laughter. I’m so screwed, and I don’t give a damn.

He knew they needed to stop before they ended up tearing each other’s clothes off in the chilly garage. With enormous effort, Geralt stepped back and ran a hand down his face. Dettlaff opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it and chuckled.

“Forgive me. That phone call wrecked me,” he said. 

Geralt looked down, blushing and laughing. “Speak for yourself.”

Dettlaff took his hand and started towards the door. “Come on. Regis is undoubtedly waiting.”

Regis was leaning against the foyer wall when they came back upstairs. He pulled Dettlaff close and kissed him, brushing a hand down his arm.

“Welcome back, love.”

Dettlaff tilted his head, eyes curious as he pulled Geralt closer, too. “You keep surprising me, Regis.”

Geralt reveled in the feeling of the two of them holding him close, leaning his head on Dettlaff’s shoulder. Suddenly he wasn’t in a hurry any more, because his body was relaxing against Dettlaff and that alone told him all he needed to know..

Regis watched them, and his eyes were suddenly very soft. “I felt like giving both of you something special. I love watching you two being in love.”

It was such a stark contrast to what had been; Regis had hesitated for months until Geralt couldn’t take it anymore. Geralt had feared the doctor would never overcome his insecurity, or that he himself would screw up something, and destroy Regis’ relationship with Dettlaff.

The trust had been rebuilt during the long summer that Geralt had spent rehabilitating his injured hip. Their love had slowly gained momentum and substance, becoming something both mundane and real. Between the three of them they had managed to figure out how they wanted to be together, and it was working. Geralt was daring to trust in this.

Regis cleared his throat and kissed Geralt’s cheek. “You’ve been very good. You deserve something nice for your discomfort.”

“I did like it,” Geralt murmured, but he wasn’t about to argue.

Regis turned his eyes to Dettlaff. “How about you take him to bedroom, get him out of those clothes? Maybe you could take the edge off.” His voice was gentle, but it still commanding. Geralt was thrilled to watch how Dettlaff’s eyes turned eager and responsive. He had never watched Regis and Dettlaff play without taking part. Now it seemed like Regis would focus his intensity on making Dettlaff care for Geralt.

Dettlaff drew him into a kiss as he worked Geralt’s pants open. Geralt was on edge, body shivering in response to finally getting that delicious friction and warm skin pressing against him. It took them embarrassingly little time to fall into bed completely naked. Regis seemed content to watch, sitting down next to them and stroking Geralt’s hair as Dettlaff started to kiss his way down Geralt’s chest.

When his lips found a nipple and sucked, Geralt arched off the bed. His body felt like it was on fire, all yesterday’s pent up lust breaking through at once.

Dettlaff flicked his tongue against the nipple before pulling back and casting an appreciative eye at Regis. “You’ve been thorough,” he muttered in a thick voice.

“Aren’t I always?” Regis answered. His hand came to rest in Dettlaff’s hair, pushing it back and scratching the scalp. “I’d like to watch you suck him off.”

Dettlaff licked his lips. Geralt tried not to shout as Dettlaff took a hold of his dick and licked the shining head. His body felt like it was going into a total sensory overload; Dettlaff’s hand was gripping his thigh as he slowly started to take him deeper, the wet, tight heat enveloping him finally, and all the time Regis watched them both. His hand stayed behind Dettlaff’s head, and Geralt realized he was guiding his partner. Even now, when Dettlaff was the one sucking him off, Regis was the one who set the pace for them.

Without any warning, Dettlaff took Geralt’s cock as deep as he could. His throat worked, and Geralt was belatedly reminded of the fact that Dettlaff had next to no gag reflex. The remaining sensible thoughts disappeared into thin air, because right then Dettlaff swallowed, and Geralt felt something break inside him; he came with a broken sob, hands flying into Dettlaff’s hair and hips bucking upwards. The room and the rest of reality seemed to fade away for a long moment of rushing pleasure.

Geralt took a long time to catch his breath. He was distantly aware of his surroundings, but his eyes flew open when Dettlaff pushed into him with a relieved moan. Dettlaff slid home and stopped there, coming to press his chest against Geralt’s.

“How are you doing?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

“Move already,” Geralt gasped. This was almost too much. Dettlaff was on the bigger side, and felt perfect inside him. Geralt didn’t care that he had just come, he only wanted to feel Dettlaff against him. He would be happy to get pounded so thoroughly he’d feel it for the rest of the year.

Regis leaned down as Dettlaff started to fuck him very slowly. The doctor was flushed with delight.

“I think you might be up for another round,” he whispered as his fingers wrapped around Geralt’s spent cock.

Geralt tried to protest, but Regis’ touch made him groan instead. It verged on painful, but with Dettlaff watching him with bright, feverish eyes and continuing to slide in and out at a very slow pace, it started to feel good.

Geralt felt a brush of disbelief when he actually got hard again. He knew it wouldn’t last long, but he could see Dettlaff was breathing hard and biting his lip by then; they were both close.

Without a warning, Regis swooped down and sucked Geralt into his mouth as Dettlaff did his best to make room for him. Geralt let out a broken sound, clenching around Dettlaff, whose mouth opened in a wordless, silent cry.

Geralt didn’t bother trying to conceal how undone he was. His head fell back and he was swept away, and when he finally came with a violent spasm, Dettlaff let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob, and followed him over the edge immediately afterwards, hips jerking until he slumped down. He pulled out and collapsed half on top of Geralt.

For a long while, Geralt’s brain was full of dull buzzing sounds. He registered Regis laying down next to him and throwing the comforter around them, but he wasn’t up to moving. He focused on breathing, distantly wondering how eerily quiet his mind was.

After a long while he finally twisted around to hug Dettlaff closer. The man smiled. His black hair was a glorious mess and his lips looked swollen.

“I’m beat,” Geralt rasped. Regis snuggled closer to his back, an arm sneaking around his waist.

“Feeling good?” Regis asked after a while.

“I haven’t been this drained since… Fuck, ever,” Geralt said, trying to gather his thoughts. “I thought I would go crazy yesterday.”

Regis smiled against the nape of Geralt’s neck, and Dettlaff huffed a laugh.

“You’re not the only one,” Dettlaff said. “I made the mistake of checking Regis’ message when I was leaving the dinner gathering. I almost tripped over some stairs.”

“I’m sorry,” Regis said, sounding like he wasn’t even remotely apologetic.

Dettlaff rolled his eyes, and Geralt knew Regis couldn’t see the gesture. It made him shake with laughter.

“Hearing you on the other end of the line was perhaps one of the most erotic things I’ve ever experienced,” Dettlaff told Geralt. “I seriously considered skipping the rest of the conference and driving home immediately.”

“I’m flattered,” Geralt grinned. He pulled Dettlaff into a kiss, and his body released the last thread of tension.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed this. I certainly did,” Regis muttered behind Geralt. “I think the rest of today is a take-out and movies kind of day.”

Geralt felt his mind slip into a comfortable doze as they shared heat, limbs tangled together. Dettlaff brushed one more kiss against his temple before tugging a pillow under his head and letting out a heavy sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> I am (for the time being) on Tumblr and Twitter (both @merulanoir), come say hello!
> 
> I'm not saying posting 11 pages of porn feels appropriate in the even of tumblr becoming a Catholic hellscape, but I most definitely does.


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